


Critical

by maraudersgirl47



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Declarations and Stuff, Domesticity, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Set Season 9, Spoilers for the Season, minimal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/maraudersgirl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean receives a phone call that elicits a response he's not so eager to repeat - Seriously a panic attack? Him? <br/>Cas is in the hospital and his condition is critical. Sam and Dean spent the entire night on the road towards Idaho - Everything just seemed to fall into place after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical

**Author's Note:**

> Wow - Don't know how I managed to pointlessly ramble about these two idiots for nearly fifteen thousand words. Regrets: None really.

It was a fairly ordinary afternoon at the bunker. Ordinary in the sense that Kevin was holed up in his room, angel tablet and a whole bunch of paper and books spread around him, while Sam and Dean spent their time researching a case that was shaping out to be a coven of vampires attempting to take a sizable chunk out of Illinois.

It was all commonplace, Sam typing away on his laptop, Dean beginning to mutter that he was hungry, the itch that Dean knew he’d soon be able to satisfy when he got to go and chop something’s head off.

All until Dean’s phone rang.

The number was unknown, Dean barely spared a thought for the caller’s identity anyway, his mind firmly on the map laid before him as he grunted an acknowledgment down the line.

_“Mr Winchester, is it?”_ It was a female voice, soft, almost timid in the hesitant question.

Sam perked his head up when he heard Dean’s tone solidify into suspicion, “Maybe. Who’s asking?”

_“My name’s Amy, I’m a nurse at Idaho state general. We have a patient here who’s in critical condition. We couldn’t find any form of identification on him, and this seems to be the only number logged in his phone.”_

Dean’s body shot a multitude of reaction through him that he didn’t know how to handle. Between the lurch of his stomach, the rush of panicked fire flooding his veins and the clench of his heart the ragged name barely fell past his lips, “Cas?”

_“We don’t know who he is. About six foot, dark hair, not underbuilt -”_

“Critical, you said critical,” Dean’s voice restricted around his panic, he could feel the colour draining from his face and the questioning worry in Sam’s eyes as his brother tried to question him what was happening.

_“There was an accident. We think he was hit by a car, no-one stopped, someone else found him, called it in. There’s also an abundant amount of alcohol that his body is trying to fight against, maybe some other substance as well.”_

Dean’s hand was shaking against the table as he pushed himself out of his chair. His mind wasn’t processing, the words trying to snake their way into his head were bringing him down with such ease. Cas was injured. Critical – critical meant dying. Idaho. He had to get to Idaho.

Dean couldn’t remember putting the phone down, or bending over, his hands clasping over his knees as his breath began to heave out of him. He could barely hear Sam speaking, or the movement of his brother around him. He struggled to stand upright, not a single nerve in his body seemed to want to cooperate with that notion and he would have hit the ground if a set of arms hadn’t caught him.

Sam’s face swam into his vision, “Dean! _Dean,_ god dammit. Pull yourself together.” Sam was trying to do nothing more than keep him upright and Dean’s instincts still fought against him, a hand trying to shove Sam off him. “Dean, for Christ sake, you need to calm down and get in the damn car.”

-

Sam drove relentlessly. It was usually Dean who would be the one to ignore stop signs, or the occasional red light. Sam would be the one who was the polite driver who let a car in here or there; but not that night. A mixture of countryside and civilization flew past the Impala’s windows at high speed, other drivers’ honked horns at them more than once, but neither brother cared.

Sam was throwing anxious glances in Dean’s direction as he sat with his head pressed against the passenger side window, eyes wide and flickering as the surroundings constantly continued to change. One fist was clenched against his thigh, the other wrapped tightly around his phone, in some form of twisted anticipation for it to sound again.

“I’m fine Sammy,” Were Dean’s eventual ground out words, “Quit looking at me and watch the fucking road.”

“You had a panic attack.” Sam’s words were just as firm as Dean’s.

“Don’t be an idiot. Of course I didn’t.”

Sam gave a humourless laugh, “Fine, whatever. Just remind me to never use the words ‘Cas’ and ‘critical’ in the same sentence. Ever.”

They remained silent. Dean had his eyes closed but Sam knew he wasn’t asleep; between the white knuckled grip he maintained and the pained expression that kept overtaking his features, he was well and truly in the land of the conscious.

It was two fifty in the morning when they pulled up at Idaho state general. Sam barely had the car parked, the ignition was definitely still running, when Dean was out of his seat and hastily heading across the lot.

Sam had to jog to catch up to him, catching the door before it slammed against the side of the building as Dean threw it open in his haste.

Dean was at the front desk, voice raising at the short receptionist as he demanded Cas’ whereabouts. Sam caught his brother under the elbow, yanked him harshly back from the desk, and took over with the talking.

There was only one unidentified man within the hospital that night and he was in the ICU. Sam practically had to hold Dean’s shoulder to keep him moving at a reasonable pace, pulling him to the side of a corridor more than once so he wouldn’t push unsuspecting staff out of his way.

Dean snarled at the nurse who told him that visiting hours were over and Sam was sure he was going to have to break up a row before another nurse came hurrying to their side.

“Are you Dean Winchester?” Her voice was as tiny as her frame, as she blinked wide eyes up at them. Dean gave a vehement nod of his head. “It’s alright Cindy. I called them here. He knows our John Doe.” Dean couldn’t remember the girl’s name (something beginning with A maybe) but felt a rush of gratitude towards her as she motioned her head to another set of closed doors. “This way.”

The disquiet that flashed across Dean’s face when his eyes found Cas attached to tubes and lying unmoving atop a stark hospital bed was obvious. Any ounce of possibility that maybe it wasn’t Cas disappeared; and the fear that came with that sunk in.

He looked bad. He was in one of those glass rooms by himself, his bruised and battered body connected to a bunch of machines no doubt attempting to keep him alive. Dean could feel a swell of bile rising in his throat as he gazed through the glass at the once all powerful Angel.

“I want to see him. I want to go in there.” Dean took steps towards the door before the nurse even began her protests.

“You have to be family. Are you -?”

“Yes,” Dean answered without hesitation, his hand pushing open the door and ignoring whatever look of suspicion or doubt that the nurse might have been giving him.

It was worse up close. The only colour that any part of Cas’ body seemed to have was the dark bruising forming against his usually lively tanned skin. His face was battered, a deep gash across his forehead, another along his cheek, his plump bottom lip split and red as if it was still bleeding.

Someone had removed his shirt and the area had been replaced with layers of bandaging, the white cloth wrapped completely around his ribs, covering most of his torso and a shoulder. There were tubes inserted to the inset of his left arm, a clear fluid being pumped directly into his veins. There was a clasp over his finger, leading to a monitor which was emitting the steady rate of his heart.

Dean ignored the burning sensation that threatened to prickle behind his eyes. He picked up the chart that was hooked over the end of the bed, flicking his bleary eyes down to the messily scrawled words. Most of it was gibberish to him, some phrases stood out. New bouts of anxiousness flooding his system as he caught words like ‘broken’ and ‘internal bleeding’.

“Amy, the nurse, said that he’s been unconscious since they bought him in.”

Dean hadn’t heard Sam shuffle into the room behind him and he nodded as best he could at his brother’s words, hooking the chart back where it belonged and eyes resting heavily against Cas’ still form. Dean took comfort where he could take it, pleased that Cas was breathing on his own. Dean watched the slow rise and fall of Cas’ chest, breathing deeply in time with the motions.

“There’s nothing more they can do for him. He has to wake on his own now, they’ve given the chances of that till morni -”

“He’ll wake,” Dean cut his brother off firmly. He heard Sam sigh heavily from behind him and repeated his own words, his conviction slowly being outweighed by that wretched bile, “He’ll wake. He has to.”

-

Dean had dragged a chair to the side of Cas’ bed, etiquette be damned, and he’d spent the last four hours merely watching him breathe.

A couple of various staff members had been into the room, some taking down notes on the chart, a couple adjusting the liquid still flowing into him. None of them said anything to Dean, he figured the dark glare lining his features had them keeping their mouths shut.  
Sam disappeared for coffee at some point and had taken longer than should be normal to return. Dean didn’t worry about it. He knew Sammy hated these places just as much as he did. He’d told Dean that he should move too, stretch his legs. But he couldn’t do it, he wasn’t moving until Cas’ eyes flickered open like they were going to. And it was going to be soon. It had to be.

It had been a car accident. Someone had apparently run Cas down on one of the main roads. As much as it sucked, that part made sense. Shit like that happened all the time. People were hurt on the roads and assholes wouldn’t stop.

What didn’t make sense was the substance abuse. Cas’ blood levels had come back with a very high alcoholic level. The toxicity of it poisoning Cas’ blood into a state that he probably hadn’t even been aware where he was when he was hit. If he hadn’t received medical attention when he did, even without the added injuries from the accident, Cas would most likely already be dead.

The anxiety thrumming through Dean’s veins at that had him picturing a Cas he’d seen once before. A Cas from some twisted version of the future that would haunt him forever. Broken, with no sense of life, _high_. His Cas would never become that. He’d promised himself that his Cas would never.

What had Cas been doing? What had he been thinking? He needed to know what happened. Bitterly, he knew that he should have been there to stop such a thing in the first place.

Dean hadn’t registered that his eyes had slipped closed until he felt a hand squeezing at his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, immediately searching for Cas and his spirits sank, shoulders drooping, as he saw Cas hadn’t moved an inch. He glanced his eyes up to the figure above him, Sam, of course it was Sam. He was gazing down at him with such a strong sense of pity that Dean couldn’t stand to look at him.

“You should get some rest Dean. Go sleep in the Impala. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“Can’t Sammy,” Dean’s eyes were back on Cas.

“You need to.”

“I can’t,” Dean snapped harshly. He pulled away from Sam’s grip, elbows resting against the mattress beside him and he dropped his head heavily into his hands. “Stupid son of a bitch.” Sam could barely hear the muffled words. “Shouldn’t have left him. It’s my fault Sammy.”

Sam didn’t bother trying to convince his brother otherwise before leaving the room again. There were more people wandering the halls now. More staff, visitors, patients walking slowly. The sun was well in the sky and Sam watched it loom ominously. It was well into morning – there needed to be change now, because now was when the hope started to fade.

Dean remained in his chair, arms now refusing to move from the bed after he’d rested against it. He gently trailed his palm down Cas’ arm, trying to take comfort from the warm skin beneath his fingers. He wrapped his hand around Cas’ wrist and focused on the thrumming pulse beating against him.

“You got to wake up Cas,” Dean murmured, they were the first words he’d spoken directly to the prone body beside him. He didn’t want to be like those people you always saw on television, sitting beside their loved ones and whispering words of comfort as if it actually made a difference. But with those words some certain wall seemed to break inside him and after that he just didn’t know how to stop, “I need you to wake up, Cas. I need you to hear me and I need you to – I just need you.”

Maybe he’d expected some miracle, his words to flow and Cas to blink his eyes open, turn to him and smile one of those rare smiles he seemed to save just for Dean. Of course nothing happened and Dean went back to sullenly glaring at the world around him.

He’d thought about Ezekiel of course. He could ask him to heal Cas, again, but deep down he knew he wouldn’t receive the answer he desired. The Angel possessing his brother would reject the request. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew, but he did. Something had changed, and it hadn’t been for the better.

The only way Cas was getting out of it this time was with his own stubborn resistance he seemed to have with death; and Dean’s forceful determination to keep him alive.

Dean was conscious of the fact he’d fallen asleep, because he woke up with that warm disoriented feeling you get when you were pulled awake before your body was ready. His head was cushioned on Cas’ mattress, he could feel the dip near him where the bed sagged under Cas’ weight. He didn’t want to open his eyes, go back to looking at the broken visage when he could do nothing to fix it, and besides the hand running through his hair was really soothing.

Dean sat up sharply, eyes going wide, blood pumping fast, “Cas?”

“Hello Dean,” Cas’ voice was husky, his throat sounding parched but that didn’t matter; his eyes were open, hand still raised slightly where it had been wound into Dean’s hair, and the barest hint of a smile lingering around his lips. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You’re awake,” Dean grasped at Cas’ hand, reaching out his other to cup it to the side of Cas’ cheek, watching as Cas moved and reacted to him, “You’re awake. You’re okay. Oh, thank fuck.” He dropped his head back near Cas’ side, wrapping his arm over him and giving him the most awkwardly positioned hug that could have been possible. It didn’t matter though, embarrassment was the last thought on his mind.

Cas was okay. He was alive. An over abundant amount of relief swelled through him as he let the notion that everything was going to be alright sink in.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice hadn’t managed to grow in strength, “You’re squashing me.”

Dean pulled himself away quickly, a light blush tainting the top of his cheeks as he moved himself back into his chair, “Sorry.”

Cas ignored the apology and extended his hand, seeking Dean’s, he smiled wide when he managed to lock their fingers together, the pressure anchoring them both.

Dean reached over with his other hand to request assistance. He knew the doctors would have to check Cas out. Make sure everything was in working order so he could get him the hell out of here. “What did I tell you about near death experiences?”

Cas glanced across to Dean shyly, “Not to do it again.”

They didn’t have a chance for any further words, a doctor pushing the door open followed closely by Amy and Sam.

Dean reluctantly finally left his seat so he wasn’t in the way, the doctor swooping in to begin his examination. Dean stood beside his widely grinning brother, watching as Cas did as he was directed and answered all the questions, clearly attempting to keep up with all the prattling words.

“- All the internal bleeding was fixed yesterday when you were bought in. You seem to still have the remains of a strong concussion and you’re more than a little battered. I’d like to keep you here for at least a couple of days, just to be sure everything’s perfectly fine.”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes widened fearfully at that prospect and he stepped forward, “Hey Doc,” The doctor’s eyes flashed piercingly in Dean’s direction. “He’s not really overly a fan of hospitals. Actually hoping if we could get out of here today. Couldn’t you release him into my care or something?”

The man contemplated the words, seeming unimpressed with Dean’s sidewards grin, “The two of you would have to sign some paperwork, asides from that -”

“Perfect. Let’s do that.” Cas shot him a grateful look which Dean returned.

The doctor left to fetch the needed papers, as Amy continued to unhook Cas from the machine he was still connected to, “Did either of you boys happen to have a spare set of clothes?” She asked in Sam and Dean’s direction, “Had to cut yours off you,” She added in way of explanation to Cas.

“There’ll be some in the trunk,” Sam said, fishing the keys out of his pocket and heading for the door, he turned to grin at Cas, “Glad you’re okay buddy.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

Amy laughed lightly, “Yes, you should have seen them. Both in a right flap over you they were. Especially that one.” She nodded her head pointedly in Dean’s direction as if he couldn’t see.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest as Cas smiled brightly, “Yes they do have that tendency to worry.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

The doctor returned with their paperwork, handing them both pens and sighing irritably as they both signed eagerly. Sam came back with a set of clothes, handing them to Cas as Dean pulled the screen around to give him some privacy.

Cas winced minimally as he pulled on Dean’s clothes, they were clearly his, the waistband of the jeans only slightly larger than something that would fit him properly, and the shirts barely needing to be rolled to a different length. They smelled like him too.

The three of them waved goodbye to Amy, thanking her for the much needed phone call, and wandered out to the Impala.

“Cas gets to ride shot gun,” Dean stated as he took the dangling keys out of his brothers hand. Cas grinned over as Dean laughed at the indignant look on Sam’s face.

Sam grumbled under his breath as he slid into the back seat, “Just because you’ve missed him.”

“He’s injured Sammy, so shut your pie hole.”

Dean cranked the music, tapping his hands against the steering wheel along with the beat, his eyes shining as Cas settled contently into the seat beside him.

-

They drove back to the bunker at a slower pace than when they left. Stopping twice for food. Cas dozed most of the way, he was still pumped full of pain killers, continuing to take more every few hours and they kept him drowsy.

Sam had finally stopped complaining about the trips seating arrangements and had picked up a couple of magazines at their last stop that he was flicking through.

They had just crossed the border back into Kansas when Cas snuffled awake again, his eyes blinking against the darkness of their surroundings a few times before turning to Dean. “How much further?”

Sam snorted from the back, “You’re like a child.”

Cas rolled his eyes, “I’m tired of the car.”

“He doesn’t mean it baby,” Dean stated while patting his hand against the dashboard. Dean could feel Sam’s eye roll even if he couldn’t see him. Dean smiled over at Cas, “Almost there.”

Dean had to help Cas out of the car, his muscles had all seized up at the stiff position he’d been in for so long. Dean smirked as he watched Cas’ eyes dart around the spacious garage, his eyes scrutinizing the cars lined up.

“We still keep finding new stuff here,” Dean said conversationally, “The cars were an added bonus.”

“You’ve been working on them,” Cas stated, eyeing the skateboard and tools piled near one of them that had its hood popped and grease staining the ground.

Dean shrugged, “Keeping busy, you know.”

Dean kept his hand resting lightly against Cas’ lower back as he lead him through the rabbit warren of the bunker. Cas was relatively sure that he wasn’t about to fall flat on his face without the support, but he didn’t mention it.

Cas followed Dean to the room he’d used once before, it hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d last been there. He recalled he’d been injured on that occasion as well, the only time subsequent to that when he’d been back to the bunker he hadn’t been around long enough to require the use of a room.

Dean turned down the covers of the bed, gesturing for Cas to lay down when he remained motionless, “You need to rest Cas.” Dean didn’t allow him any chance to protest, “I’ll go get you some more pain killers to knock you out.”

By the time he returned, a couple of pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other, Cas had already curled himself to the side of the mattress, the blankets pulled around him tight and a light snore lifting from him.

Dean smiled fondly, placing the items he had on the bedside table. He shifted Cas’ hair away from his forehead as gently as he could, subtly getting a look at the deep gashes that were still prominently marring Cas’ features. Dean frowned at the sight; it looked painful. He couldn’t imagine what pain must be like for Cas now, he used to be able to heal himself of any ailment with less than a thought – now he was stuck with whatever the world saddled him with.

-

Dean went to wake Cas after a few hours. He’d managed to sleep himself, and if he was being honest he’d probably much rather stay resting for the remainder of the day, but he needed to wake Cas every so often to make sure the concussion wasn’t causing any untoward effects.

Cas grumbled out resistance as Dean prodded at him lightly, he attempted batting Dean’s hand away from his side and winced as his sudden motions sent pain shooting through him.

Dean was torn between sympathy and laughter at Cas’ petulance, “Come on buddy, you gotta wake up, just for a little bit.”

Cas blearily blinked his eyes open, the blue narrowing on Dean as if he’d caused some great offence; Dean merely grinned.

Cas gingerly rolled himself onto his back, his eyes focusing up at the ceiling as a frown pinched his brow.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked, carefully seating himself on the edge of the bed.

“Is it wrong of me to say like I’ve been hit by a car?”

Dean laughed softly. Eyes watching narrowly as Cas tried to pull himself upright without causing himself discomfort, which seemed to be an impossible feat. “I’m sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You are not the one who ran me down, Dean.”

“You shouldn’t have been in a position like that Cas. I should have been around – I mean, what were you even doing?”

Cas fidgeted with his hands, picking at a spot on Dean’s shirt that he was still wearing, “I don’t remember what I was doing when I was hit. Or where I was.”

“I don’t doubt that. They said that with the amount you’d had to drink the car wasn’t even a necessary device, you could have died anyway.” Dean hadn’t meant for his tone to turn so hard and bitter, “Is that what you were trying to achieve? Getting yourself killed?”

Cas shook his head harshly, “Of course not Dean. I think I merely overestimated my tolerance for alcohol.”

Dean shot him a look, “Oh really, that’s all? Why were you drinking so much in the first place?”

“You do it,” Cas mumbled to his lap, “When you’re upset or lonely. I thought it was an acceptable practise for such times.”

“You should know better than to judge regular human behaviour from my actions Cas.”

The two of them remained quiet for a few beats until Cas perked his head back up, “I think I require a shower.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah alright. Then you can put fresh bandages on.” Any fight he had left in him drained away as he helped Cas back to his feet; Cas seemed disheartened at the amount he needed to lean against Dean for support.

Dean helped him to his bathroom, getting him a fresh towel and placing a set of new white bandages on the counter. “You alright to -” Dean gestured his hand vaguely in Cas’ general vicinity.

Cas huffed, “I’m fine, Dean.” But even as Dean was closing the door behind him he was already realizing how not fine he really was.

Getting undressed was hard enough, the stretch of any of his torso and arms burning as his sore body ached. He unwound the stained bandage as tenderly as he could from his skin, wincing when the cloth stuck to the few gashes that lined his ribs. He wasn’t even sure how he’d even managed to break the skin down there. The friction from the road maybe? It didn’t really matter; it still hurt.

There were dark bruises blooming along the remainder of his chest, some against his stomach. He cringed as he looked at himself in the mirror; he looked like he’d been trampled by something. He shucked Dean’s jeans to the ground, stepping out of them carefully before leaning over to turn the taps of the shower.

He grinned softly to himself as he adjusted the temperature, he’d forgotten; good water pressure.

The spray of the water stung at first, his skin taking badly to the new sensation. That soon passed and a soothing response replaced it. He remained under the water longer than probably necessary. He enjoyed being surrounded by the warmth, the steam billowing around him as his muscles tried to unclench.

He washed his face carefully, his features screwing up in pain whenever he went near either of the gashes. They’d probably take an annoyingly long time to heal completely, the same went for the lines marring his side.

When he finally turned the taps back to their original position he stepped out of the tub gingerly, reaching for the towel Dean had left for him and patting it along the lines of his body. He rubbed the now damp towel over his hair, wiping the dripping strands out of his eyes, before fastening the blue material around his waist.

Cas picked up one of the bandages Dean had left, and played with the fastening on it. In all reality he had no idea how he was meant to secure it to himself. He knew it had to be tight to a certain degree; there had been damage to his ribs and he wasn’t allowed to move them an abundant amount.

He stood awkwardly fiddling with the white material for an uncomfortable amount of time, jumping when he heard the light knock on the door. “Hey Cas, it’s me, you alright in there?” Dean’s voice sounded through the thick wood and Cas sighed, defeated.

He shuffled over to the door, unclicking the lock and pulling it open. Dean was standing close to the barrier, his eyes immediately visible through the crack, “I need you to help me do this,” He raised the bandage that was still in his hand.

Dean huffed a small laugh, his grin gentle, “Let me in.”

Cas stepped back to allow Dean entrance, Dean firmly reclosed the door behind him before properly turning his eyes onto Cas. They widened as they trailed across Cas’ mostly still bare form, lingering at the wounds damaging his body, before resting at the towel still wrapped tightly around his waist. Cas shifted under the scrutinizing, figuring Dean’s narrowed eyes had something to do with the fact that the hunter didn’t like it when Cas suggested things that weren’t normal human behaviour. He supposed this wasn’t normal.

“They dinged you up pretty good, huh?” Dean’s tone was soft and Cas nodded. “Come on, let’s clean you up.” Dean motioned towards the toilet and Cas took the hint sitting on the closed lid.

Dean was chewing at his bottom lip as he picked up the bandage Cas had discarded as a lost cause, he grabbed another cloth, soaking it under the run of water from the sink, and a bottle of some clear liquid.

“Antiseptic,” Dean said in way of explanation to Cas’ questioning eyes, “They should have done this properly at the hospital, but just in case.” Dean moved Cas’ legs apart so he could kneel comfortably between them. Cas, as inconspicuously as he could, ensured that his towel remained covering where it needed to.

Dean poured some of the liquid onto the cloth, he gazed up at Cas’ watching eyes before placing it to his skin, “This is gonna sting.”

Cas nodded. Even with Dean’s warning he wasn’t quite quick enough to muffle the grunt of pain that escaped as Dean wiped over the gashes in his side, and Dean winced with him. “Sorry man, just breathe deeply okay?” Dean continued his ministrations, “Can’t believe they didn’t stitch these, they look deep.”

“Doctor said they didn’t need it,” Cas muttered through gritted teeth.

Dean shook his head as he kept going. When he was done he threw the cloth up onto the sink, picking up the bandage he had next to him and unwinding it. “Arms up.”

Cas followed the instruction, watching as Dean placed the first length of white against his skin, and with a skill no doubt developed with ridiculous amounts of needed practise he wrapped the material around Cas’ bruised ribs, his torso, back over his shoulder that had taken a pounding.  
Dean fastened the material securely when it was all unwound, his hands brushing lightly across the lines of it against Cas’ skin.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmured. Dean motioned for him to lower his arms back to normal and Cas complied. Dean stood only momentarily so he could reach for the cloth he’d tossed earlier, then repositioned himself on his knees and firmly took Cas’ chin in his hand to direct his face.

“I can -” Cas began softly.

“Shut up, Cas.”

Dean slowly wiped at the gash along Cas’ cheek, his movements becoming even tenderer when Cas winced at the motion. He cleaned the area thoroughly before paying the same attention to the cut near his hairline.

Cas leaned into the hand that was still cupping his face, Dean’s thumb slowly rubbing circles distracting him from any pain. He felt Dean shift when his eyes slipped closed, fully expecting Dean to announce he was done and pull away Cas was surprised when instead of retracting Dean’s hand trailed along the line of his jaw.

Cas opened his eyes to look down at him. Dean wasn’t looking at him directly, his gaze was off along the line of the tiled floor, eyes glassy as if he’d lost sight of his surroundings. “Dean?”

Dean’s hand tightened its grip against the side of Cas’ face, “M’ so sorry Cas.”

Cas toyed with the idea of pulling Dean’s face around so he could see his expression properly, he lost courage, his hand fisting into a ball against his thigh before it made it to the strands of Dean’s hair. “This wasn’t your fault Dean. You should understand that.”

“I should never have left you.”

Cas didn’t know how to respond to that statement so he remained silent. In truth he did wish that Dean had never left him, never cast him out of the bunker, never sent him away with no explanation. Not that he really needed one, he knew he was simply too much of a burden to keep around.

Dean’s other hand had come to rest against Cas’ thigh and Cas tried not to twitch at the sensation. His experiences with physical contact, even though they’d been more copious in the last few months than the rest of his existence, had still been few and far between, and any form of contact still had the habit of eliciting unexplainable responses from him.

Like now; his skin was growing uncomfortably hot under Dean’s touch, even though he knew the room was cooler than it had been before and he was still barely covered.

Dean used his leverage against Cas’ thigh to push himself higher on his knees, his face drawing closer and Cas couldn’t hold back the gasp of air that left him when the soft press of Dean’s lips lightly brushed against his jaw where his fingers had been resting only a second before.

Cas’ body reeled at the sensation, his entire being felt like it was on fire, air coming to him in a more painful plunge with some unknown origin of restraint the only thing keeping him immobile. Dean seemed oblivious to the reaction as he murmured softly, “Need you to promise to keep safe Cas. I need you safe,” before pecking his lips back to Cas’ skin.

Dean pulled back, seeking Cas’ gaze, surprised concern clouded his features at the uncomfortable look in Cas’ eyes. Dean rubbed his hand soothingly along Cas’ thigh, “You alright Cas? You in pain?”

Cas nodded his head at the same time as he said, “No.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “I mean – I am not in pain, I’m fine.”

Cas subconsciously licked at his lips, his eyes dropping to Dean’s as his mind wandered to the thought of them placed back against his skin. Dean looked like he was about to say something but was interrupted by a knock against the door, “Everything okay in there?”

Dean sighed deeply, pushing himself to his feet and out of Cas’ reach, “Everything’s fine Sammy. Had to bandage Cas up.”

Dean began packing up the supplies he’d used as they both heard Sam stride away. Dean sighed again as he looked back at Cas still seated on the toilet, “Didn’t think. We should have gone to get your things in Idaho. All your clothes and stuff.”

“I don’t mind wearing yours,” Cas mumbled, even as he reached for Dean’s old fallen shirt that he’d been wearing since the hospital.

Dean chuckled more to himself than to Cas as he tucked the medical kit into the cupboards under the skin, “Suppose it’s strange that it doesn’t worry me either.”

Dean retreated from the room, leaving a very confused Cas still seated, unmoving, with Dean’s shirt clenched tightly in his fist.

-

Dean made them all burgers for dinner. Sam complained that it was unfair Cas immediately got the good stuff when he and Kevin had been asking Dean to make them for weeks. Dean shrugged him off, seating himself besides Cas and placing his fat burger in front of him, grinning when Cas’ eyes widened at the sight.

Cas still looked exhausted as he ate his way through his burger. The dark rings under his eyes and the shallow texture to his skin made it look like he hadn’t slept in days.   
He still managed to be adamantly grateful to Dean for the food, and showed signs of revealing his usual stubbornness as Dean ushered him away from the table and back towards his room.

“I am tired of sleeping.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he lightly manhandled Cas back down on the bed, “You look half dead Cas. You’re body needs to recuperate.”

Cas huffed, fidgeting as Dean dragged the blankets over him. “This is unnecessary.”

Dean shot him a look, “Well next time, maybe you should try to avoid being hit by a large moving metal machine.”

“Next time, maybe you shouldn’t kick me out onto the streets.” Dean froze, his hands stilling against the blanket he was still adjusting, as his eyes sought anything that wasn’t Cas. “I’m sorry,” Cas mumbled, “I didn’t mean it like that. The painkillers, they’re, uh, lowering my inhibitions.”

Dean stopped trying to make Cas more comfortable, striding away from the bedside quickly, “Yeah, whatever Cas.” He paused only briefly by the door, “Just get some rest.”

Cas slumped heavily against the pillows as he was left alone once more, frustration biting at him. Dean had sent him away in the first place because he was such a burden, now, practically broken, he was more of a hindrance than before.

Maybe Dean would allow him to stay at least until he was well enough to move around properly. Cas cringed at the sick sense of satisfaction that welled within him when he realized his injuries had managed him back inside the bunker. Where he wanted to be. With the others. With Dean.

Cas felt his consciousness slipping away from him quickly, his thoughts becoming less and less practical as he drifted into darkness. The soft press of Dean’s lips against his jaw the lingering thought tugging at his exhausted body.

-

Cas was confused at the amount of warmth radiating from around him when he woke. His body temperature was certainly higher than it was supposed to be. Maybe he had a fever?   
It hurt to roll himself onto his back, arms and shoulders creaking with his weight, but he managed it. His eyes falling upon the figure that he was certainly not expecting. The abnormal heat wasn’t emitting from himself; it was coming from the body stretched out beside him.

Dean was there. His head nestled into one of the pillows, features turned slightly away from Cas but his eyes were definitely closed. One arm was flung over the side of the bed, fingers resting near the bed side table were a book lay that hadn’t been there earlier, the other was half stretched out to Cas’ side, less than a few inches from his waist. Part of Cas’ blanket had been tugged over his legs and he appeared completely content.

Cas attempted to pull himself into more of a sitting position, without jostling the man resting peacefully beside him, or spiking pain through his ribs.

He managed somewhat; it seemed to be his pained wince that had Dean’s eyes snapping open, not his movements. “Cas?” Dean asked groggily, managing to pull himself into a respectable position in less than half the time that Cas had managed.

“Dean,” Cas stated back, his eyes watching as Dean seemed to want to offer some form of comfort but not knowing how to do so. He flickered his gaze back over the book close by Dean, had the hunter been reading in here? Why wasn’t he in his own room? “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh, you know, keeping an eye on you.”

“Your eyes were closed.” Cas thought he saw Dean’s cheeks tinge to a darker colour.

Dean snorted as he fiddled with the blanket still draped half across his lower body.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Dean glanced at his watch, “Bout fourteen hours.” Cas raised his eyebrows, he barely felt like he’d been out for twenty minutes. “How you feeling?”

“Sore,” Cas responded honestly.

Dean gave a jerk of his head that was probably meant to be sympathetic. “You hungry?” Cas’ stomach gave a growl at the words before he could even respond and Dean grinned softly, “I’ll make you something.”

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, raising himself back to his feet. “Thank you, Dean.” Dean waved off Cas’ gratitude on his way out.

He headed to the kitchen, pulling out a variety of ingredients from the fridge as he set a fry pan to heat on the stove. He cracked a couple of eggs, scrambled them, fried some bacon, made some toast which he spread jam over. He piled Cas’ plate high, adding a few fried mushrooms and slices of tomato.

“Please tell me you made enough for all of us?”

“You can make your own Sammy,” Dean didn’t even turn to glance at his no doubt pouting brother as he continued to fill a glass with orange juice.

“Cas is still getting the special treatment, huh? If I’m not quick enough you’ll feed him all the food before I even get to it.” Sam took the juice carton out of his brother’s hand before he could place it back on the door of the fridge.

“Shut up Sam.”

Sam chuckled openly as he watched Dean carefully balance the plate and grab the glass to take back to Cas, “You don’t have to mother him so much – you know he’s going to be fine.”

Dean didn’t bother to retort, heading his way out of the kitchen. He passed Kevin along the way, who gave him the same grumblings as Sam; how dare he waft the smell of bacon through the hallways when there wasn’t enough to go around.

Dean was surprised that Cas still had his eyes open when he re-entered the room, he had himself propped up against the headboard, pillows cushioning his position. Dean could virtually see him salivating at the aroma of fried food.

He placed the plate in Cas’ lap, handing him the glass of orange liquid, which Cas took a grateful gulp from before reaching to rest it on the bed side table. Cas ate his food eagerly, grinning at Dean with gratitude as the hunter resumed his position on the opposite side of the bed. “You better enjoy that, Sam was pissy enough, he hasn’t realized they were the last of the eggs yet.”

Cas grinned around his mouthful, “Thank you Dean.”

Dean chuckled as he stole a piece of bacon from the edge of Cas’ plate and shoved it into his mouth. “We’ll have to change your bandages after you eat,” Dean spoke around his bacon conversationally, “You can change your clothes too, we really should have picked up some of your stuff, you’ll just have to keep wearing mine for now. You can use whatever, besides they don’t fit you that bad. Have to take you into town to get some new stuff when you’re up for it.”

Cas remained silent, watching Dean with a mixture of confusion as the hunter continued to pluck morsels of food from his plate. Dean spoke as if he would be here in the bunker for some time; Cas had figured that as soon as he was well enough Dean would have him on a bus back to Idaho. Cas was torn between voicing his suspicions or simply continuing to enjoy Dean’s company; as odd as his actions may seem.

They cleaned the plate together, Cas easily handing it over to Dean so he could finish what Cas could not. Dean left the room once more to discard of the now empty dish and he returned with another wad of white bandages.

“Alright, shirt off,” Dean stated, pushing the blanket Cas still had wrapped over his waist out of the way.

Cas glared up at Dean slightly at the rush, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt before stilling stiffly as he felt pain shoot up his spine. Dean noticed the sharp intake of breathe, his hands coming to rest carefully over Cas’ when he showed no signs of resuming his movements.

“Lift,” Dean stated, gentler than before, and Cas obliged.

Dean carefully dragged the material up his chest, tugging it gently over his head and pulling it off his outstretched arms. He tossed it mindlessly onto the bed, hands moving back to unfasten the bandage.

Cas could see no new spots of blood against the white as Dean unwound the material from his skin and he was glad for it. Dean chucked the soiled cloth aside as carelessly as he had his shirt. Cas grimaced as he looked down at himself, the dark bruising that had prominently bloomed across his torso and side looked worse than it had the day before. The dark colours were now tinted with a sickening yellow and green.

Cas prodded lightly at the discolouration, grimacing at the dull pain he received for it.

Dean chuckled, “Don’t poke at it Cas. You will heal.”

“Eventually,” Cas grumbled, “Till then,” He motioned glumly in the direction of his battered self.

“It’s not that bad,” Dean murmured. Cas looked up in surprise when the back of Dean’s hand lightly brushed against the skin along his side, his knuckles gently gliding along the pliant muscles. Cas shivered at the light sensation and Dean immediately retracted, “It hurt?”

Cas shook his head, “No.” Dean smiled gently before replacing his hand.

Dean eventually began to wind the bindings back around Cas’ form. Cas’ senses felt heightened as he did. He seemed overly mindful of how close Dean was, how far he leaned into Cas’ space every time he needed to reach to make another loop of bandage, how his hands seemed to linger, continuing to press gently against Cas’ skin.

Cas knew he was instinctually leaning back into Dean’s touches, he was mindful that Dean could notice at any second and completely pull away from him, but it felt like something much stronger than comfort, and he wanted to savour in it.

Dean had once again positioned himself on his knees at Cas’ feet, pushed up so he could easily reach around Cas with minimal amounts of jostling. He gave a satisfied huff once he had wrapped Cas’ wounds completely. He looked up at Cas, grin lopsided, “All done.”

Cas didn’t know how to express his gratitude. He wanted to say thank you not just for the fact that Dean was continuing to ensure his care but for everything. Dean had come to fetch him the minute he knew something had been wrong – and as soon as he knew Cas was going to be okay, he didn’t send him away or leave him to dwindle in the hospital. He kept him near; kept him safe. He didn’t know how to say thank you for something like that.

On an impulse Cas dropped his head, hovering above Dean before lightly pressing his lips to the side of Dean’s cheek, much like Dean had done to him the day before. It was a hesitant touch, he was almost certain that Dean would recoil from him, push him away. Even though Dean had done the exact same thing first. Besides – it was only a thank you.

What he hadn’t expected was Dean’s hand to shoot forward and clutch at the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected Dean to hold him close, turn his face to a different angle, and press their lips together instead.

It was still a light touch, still hesitant and gentle, Cas would have maybe thought of calling it a caress. Dean’s lips softly melding against his sent pulses of electricity shooting through his veins and he instinctually leaned in for more. Cas felt the smile on Dean’s mouth as they remained sealed together, could still feel the tight grip at the nape of his neck, felt a pull much stronger than any of that flowing from within him.

Dean drew away from him only when he heard a pained wince escape from the lips beneath his, Cas had tried to move too swiftly. “Careful,” Dean murmured, resting his forehead against Cas’, avoiding any injury, “Sorry, we shouldn’t – I shouldn’t have -”

“Do it again,” Cas demanded as harshly as he could manage.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, his tone almost teasing.

Cas reached a hand to Dean’s hair, attempting to drag him up, “More, Dean.”

Dean grinned into the next kiss, happily obliging Cas’ tongue entrance when he felt it trail against the seam of his lips. He opened up to him, pushing back and revelling in the moan it elicited from the man under his touch. 

Cas was close to pouting when Dean pulled away again, complaints rising on his lips, but Dean hushed him gently, “Slowly, Cas. It’s gotta be slow.”

“Why?” Cas questioned petulantly, “I believe I have waited long enough to have you allow me to do such a thing.”

There was a certain amount of joy and hope shimmering behind Dean’s eyes at those words but he didn’t elaborate on it, chastely pressing his lips back to Cas’ instead, “Slowly, because right now is not the time when I can simply throw you down against the bed and do whatever we please,” He wrapped his hand lightly over Cas’ bandaged side, “We have to be careful because of this. So don’t tempt me to ignore it.”

Cas nodded his head even as he rolled his eyes, a frustrated huff escaping him. Dean chuckled, hoisting himself up from the ground and seating himself closely against Cas’ side. Cas leaned against his shoulder, Dean wrapped an arm around his back gently to pull him in and he tilted his face so he could press their lips back together.

Their movements were more languid, each savouring the feel of the other beneath their touch, Cas enjoyed Dean’s taste exploding through his senses while Dean stroked a hand through his hair.

Dean’s gaze was soft when he pulled back, “You should get some rest.”

Cas didn’t want to admit the fact that he did already feel exhausted, he’d been awake for under an hour and his fragile body was already craving more sleep. Instead of answering he merely pressed his lips to Dean’s jaw, slowly working a trail up towards his ear.

Dean chuckled, the vibration of the sound moving through Cas, “Don’t try and distract me.”

“Is it working?” Cas murmured slyly, his lips still moving over a point that had Dean’s eyes slipping closed.

Dean hummed contently, falling into Cas’ ministrations before snapping himself out of it. “No. Maybe. Stop that,” He leaned out of Cas’ reach, glaring playfully at the smirk lining Cas’ plump lips. “You’re going to be insatiable, aren’t you?”

Cas feigned a look of innocence, “Doesn’t sound like me.”

Dean brought their mouths back together, biting at Cas’ bottom lip when Cas tried to request for more, “Sleep, Cas,” Another kiss, “You’re exhausted, I can tell.”

“Fine,” Cas responded dejectedly, regretfully extracting himself from Dean’s hold. “Where are you going?” Cas asked quickly when Dean raised himself from the bed instead of resuming the position he’d claimed earlier.

“Gotta say goodbye to Sammy,” He laughed lightly at the frown forming on Cas’ features, “I’ll be back.”

“Sam is going where?”

“There’s a hunt, vamps out in Illinois.”

As regretful as the words were, Cas immediately attempted to state that the younger Winchester shouldn’t go alone, “Dean you should go, I will be fine. I am more than capable of surviving without constant supervision.”

Dean was already shaking his head before Cas finished his sentence, “He’s meeting Garth up there. The two of them are perfectly capable of taking care of it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cas was going to continue protesting even though he knew Dean had probably caught the longing relief that had flooded his eyes when Dean stated that he was staying.

Dean was almost to the door before he quickly turned around, strode back to the side of the bed and leaned down to firmly place his lips back to Cas’ another time. He stroked his hand through Cas’ hair as Cas greedily leaned up into his touch, “Get some sleep Cas.”

-

The grumbles Cas made where instinctual when he felt his consciousness returning to him not of his own accord. It didn’t take long for the sounds to turn into something much more pleasurable when he realized the cause of his disturbance was not one that he was opposed to.

Cas moaned as he continued to feel the press of lips against the side of his neck, he could feel a hidden harshen beneath the light touches, the nip of teeth every known again, followed swiftly by the swipe of a tongue. Cas’ temperature sky rocketed when the thought occurred to him that those motions were defiantly going to leave a mark.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Dean’s words were murmured into his skin as he continued his sure actions.

“Dean.” Cas tilted his head to the side and Dean instantly latched onto the extra exposed area. As Cas became more aware of his surroundings, he realized one of Dean’s arms was wrapped over his stomach, hooking onto his waist, the other was resting near his head, lightly playing with the ends of his hair.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh as he opened his eyes, Dean clutching him closer, continuing to burrow into his neck. “What?” Dean asked sceptically.

“I believe,” Cas stated happily, “That this is known as cuddling.”

Dean hummed against his skin, “Don’t tell anyone.” He rolled himself up enough so he was hovering over Cas’ prone form, Cas smiling up at him, as he leaned down to seal their lips together. Dean pressed his tongue into Cas’ mouth hungrily, twisting it around Cas’ own and lapping at him. Cas pushed up against him, silently seeking more.

Cas whined when Dean rolled back to the side, Dean offered him a sad smile, leaning to press his lips gently to the gash that was across Cas’ cheek, followed by the cut on his forehead. “Slow, remember?” Cas mumbled a few disgruntled words that Dean didn’t quite catch as he hoisted himself out of the bed. He walked around to Cas’ side, sticking out his hand, “Come on,” Cas took the offered palm automatically.

“Where are we going?” Cas’ voice turned slightly strained as Dean helped drag him to his feet.

“This room is boring,” Was the only explanation Dean gave.

Dean kept Cas’ hand in his own as he lead him out of the room, down the hallway and around a corner. Cas’ eyes widened when Dean ushered him into his room. He’d never seen Dean’s room before – and even at a glimpse Dean was obviously right, this space was much more exciting.

Cas took his time glancing around; taking in the weapons that lined one of the walls, the row of what Cas was sure was old music stacked side by side, the desk with a typewriter and a few pictures resting against his lamp.

“The mattress is better too,” Dean stated conversationally as he plopped himself down upon it, back resting against the headboard and eyes continuing to watch as Cas looked around.

Once satisfied with his examination Cas wandered over to Dean’s bed, sliding himself up beside Dean and leaning over to kiss him gently.

“There’s room in the drawers, the cupboard, you know, for anything you might want to…” Dean trailed off, eyes flicking around the room.

Cas pulled back, watching Dean closely, “Are you asking me to stay?”

“Will you?” Dean countered.

Cas sighed heavily, leaning further away, “I don’t understand, and I need you to explain it to me.”

“Understand what Cas?”

Cas threw him a dark look, “You’re the one who insisted I leave in the first place, Dean. And now what? Nothing’s changed, I’m still human, I’m still useless to you. I’m more damaged than I was before. Why would – Did you not want this,” He gestured his hand between them, “Were you trying to avoid -”

“No. Cas, stop.” Dean picked up Cas’ hand that was still hanging in the air, trying to break whatever barriers he could feel forming between them, “None of that is true.”

“Dean -”

“You know I’m not good at this, Cas. You know that I can’t do the whole articulate words thing where everything I mean just comes out perfectly. I will always need you Cas. Not your powers or your divine right or whatever else you think was so important. I need you for you.” Dean rolled his eyes at himself, “I can’t say it any better than that.” He sighed, “I was trying to keep you safe, do what was right, for all of us,” He waved a hand at the bandages littering across Cas’ body, “Clearly that went really well.”

Cas remained silent, watching Dean through squinted eyes, “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you refuse to tell me.”

“Yes,” Dean said honestly, “I can’t – I will. I will tell you, just not now. You just gotta trust me.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble? I mean, you haven’t been selling your soul off or anything, right?”

Dean laughed, squeezing Cas’ hand in his, “No, Cas.”

“Good,” Cas stated firmly, he leaned over so he could skim his lips over Dean’s, “Because it belongs to me.”

Dean chuckled against him, “Possessive? I like it.”

Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s heavily, “This isn’t really explaining -”

“I want you here Cas. With me. I did long before you fell, and after. Maybe more so after. Tell me you’ll stay.” 

“Of course, Dean, I wouldn’t have left,” Dean kissed him again, trying to mix as much apology as he could within the press of his lips, Cas pulled back, “What do you mean ‘more so’ after I fell?”

Dean shrugged, a hint of embarrassment touching at the tops of his cheeks, “You know, you being human has its perks.” Cas raised his eyebrows sceptically, “Like, you can’t flutter off on me whenever you please. It probably feels better when I do this,” Dean lunged forward, dragging Cas against him. He was mindful of his movements, careful as he clutched at Cas’ waist, but as he shoved his tongue down Cas’ throat the moan he received clearly expressed that there was more pleasure than pain.

Cas fisted his hands tightly into Dean’s hair, grasping at the strands and tugging Dean’s face impossibly closer. “Yeah,” Cas breathed heavily against his lips, “That feels pretty good.”

“Pretty good? _Pretty_ good?” Dean faked being scandalized. Cas laughed. “I’ll show you ‘pretty good’, fly boy.”

“Fly boy?” Cas asked around Dean’s mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah alright, that one’s out.” Dean ran his hands around Cas’ waist, “How ‘bout angel?”

“Dean -”

“No, no. I like that one. Angel. My angel.” Cas melted back against Dean’s mouth, Dean’s hands running smoothly around his back as Cas let any protests die between their lips.

Cas whimpered loudly when he tried to hoist himself closer to Dean, his hands fumbled against the front of Dean’s shirt, loosing grip as pain shot through him.   
Dean stilled against him, breaking them apart and breathing deeply, “Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Cas tried to smile and Dean scowled at him when it came out as more of a grimace.

Dean sighed as he dropped his arms from around Cas, leaning back against the headboard and away from him, “You’re not. You should rest.”

Cas huffed irritably, “If you tell me to rest one more time -” He hoisted himself up, stubbornly ignoring the pain emanating from his side has he hitched his leg and straddled himself over Dean’s thighs.

“Cas!”

Cas grabbed Dean’s wrists before he had a chance to move him off, “We don’t need to stop. Just let me go at my pace, okay? I don’t want to stop Dean.”

Dean willingly tilted his head up as Cas leaned down to catch his lips. He went plaint under Cas’ touch, worming a hand out of Cas’ grasp so he could reach out to cup his face. Cas effectively kept him pinned to the mattress with his weight. “What did I say? Insatiable.”

“Shut up.” Cas fastened his mouth to Dean’s jaw, working his way along the line of it as he moved his hands to the collar of Dean’s shirt. He tugged the layer off, throwing it aimlessly to the side before quickly fisting his hands to the hem of the Henley Dean had underneath and raising that as well.

Dean’s skin was warm beneath his palms as Cas smoothed his hands down the surface of his bare chest. He grinned where he was working against the side of Dean’s neck as he felt Dean shift impatiently beneath him. Cas pulled back so he could look down at Dean properly, enjoying the sight as he lightly traced his fingers around the ink near Dean’s collarbone.

Dean shifted his hands, bringing them up to drag Cas back down but Cas headed him, “What did I say? My pace.”

“I don’t think you quite understand the difficulty of what you’re asking Cas.”

Cas smiled as he leaned down to press his lips where his fingers had been resting. Dean sighed deeply as Cas drew his tongue around the lines of his tattoo precisely. “You’ve done this many times Dean. You should know control.”

“Different with you. Already been waiting for – a while.”

Cas tilted his head to the side at that, “Why now?”

“Sick of the thought of losing you for one thing.” He smiled as Cas leaned into him, “Need you Cas.”

“You have me. Although looking like this,” He glanced down at his marred skin, “You’d probably _want_ to wait.”

Dean cupped his face, brushing his thumb lightly over the stark line maiming his cheek, “I hadn’t noticed a thing.”

They resumed their kissing, Cas’ hands continuing to run over Dean’s torso, grasping at him as he leaned up into Cas’ touches. A spike of pleasure shot through Cas when Dean went back to sucking on his neck, stimulating the mark he’d left earlier and causing Cas to buck forwards against Dean’s lap.

They both paused at the sensation. Cas taking a moment to compose himself before purposefully repeating the action. Dean shuddered beneath him.

“Cas.”

“Mmmm,” Cas hummed against him, steadily rocking himself down against Dean. He watched Dean’s eyes slip closed and felt a renewed strain against the fastenings of his jeans as his body began to harden with the feel of Dean beneath him.

“Cas,” Dean said warningly when Cas’ hands began fiddling with his belt. Cas widened his eyes innocently, playfully biting at his lip as Dean gazed down at him. “Remember that talk about control? The entire concept is about to fly out the window.”

“I think you’ll manage,” Cas stated factually, “Or do I need to tie you down?”

Dean spluttered indignantly at the same time as his body arched up needily, “They’ll be no tying me up or down or in any other direction.”

Cas released his hold from Dean’s belt momentarily to run his hand over the tent that was forming at the front of Dean’s jeans. Dean bucked up against his hand immediately, seeking friction, and Cas grinned, “We’ll see.”

Dean ignored Cas’ plight for him to remain immobile and leaned forward so he could seal his lips over Cas’ smirking mouth. Cas moaned against him, his hands resuming the task of unfastening Dean’s belt, and Dean couldn’t help to pull him closer.

Cas successfully managed to shuck Dean’s pants open, tracing his hand over the prominent line of Dean’s hard cock, before lowering the waistband of Dean’s boxers and curling his fingers around the leaking shaft.

Dean’s breath turned ragged where it was hitting the side of Cas’ neck, his limbs seeming to seize as he attempted not to buck Cas off him – or flip him down against the mattress and ravish him.   
Cas stroked him lightly, a certain amount of curiosity laced with his actions as his fingers deftly moved along the length of Dean’s shaft.

Dean groaned heartily when Cas grew confident enough to apply more pressure, twisting his wrist slightly as his fingers ran around the head, collecting the precum that was dripping from the top. _“Cas.”_

Cas smiled as he continued to draw sounds of pleasure from Dean; Dean doing his best to return the gesture as his eyes wanted to roll back in his head. He pressed his lips lightly along the line of Cas’ jaw, sucking at his skin. Dean sighed with a mixture of relief and complaint when Cas withdrew his hand – the sound was swiftly followed by one of need when Cas raised his fingers to his lips, cautiously flicking his tongue out and tasting Dean’s precum that he’d collected on the digits.

Dean lunged at him without pre warning, their teeth clacking together loudly as Dean harshly pressed back to his mouth. The sight of Cas so near him, the feel of him, the certain amount of innocence that still lingered behind his eyes – it was a lot to handle. Especially when he had to be so damn _careful._

Recommencing his actions Cas wrapped his fingers back around Dean’s cock, more confident this time, and pumping him with a faster speed. Dean rutted up against him, raising himself to meet Cas’ hand, allowing the friction to spread pleasure through him.

Dean trailed his hands around Cas’ waist, he could see the line of Cas’ own cock, clearly pressing against the ridge of his pants and obviously as hard as Dean. He had his fingers ready to flick open the button, pull down the zip, and was overly thrilled when Cas didn’t stop him.

He pulled Cas out of his pants, fumbling as pleasure continued to thrum through him from Cas’ actions, the feeling intensifying as he wrapped his hand around Cas and felt him react to him. He’d seen Cas naked before, but it had nothing on having him like this. All needy and wanting above him, easily falling into step as Dean stroked him in time with the pace Cas had already set.

They continued to rut against one another, hands working over each other with growing rhythm, mouths seeking any part of the other – pursuing the contact.

It was Cas’ voice in his ear, rougher than usual (as impossible as he thought that would have been), breathy, sighing his name over and over in a litany that sounded so close to reverence that it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Dean curled his fingers into Cas’ hair, lining Cas up and sealing their mouths together flawlessly as he released in spurting flows over Cas’ hand. His eyes squeezed tight as he continued to work over Cas, the bliss flowing through him heightening to new levels when he felt Cas shudder and tumble over the edge after him.

They did make quite the mess. Both of them covered in each other’s copious amounts of seed. Dean could feel the mess seeping rather quickly into the material of his pants and he knew Cas would be no better off.

The look of utter satisfaction plastered across Cas’ face when Dean finally managed to drag his eyes open was enough to make him want to do this every day. He needed that look on Cas’ face more often – and he was sure he’d manage it.

Cas leaned in to press their foreheads together, lips chastely pressing to Dean’s as Dean rubbed at his bandaged sides.

“Dean,” Cas murmured happily against him.

Dean laughed softly at the pleased lilt to his tone, “You okay angel?”

Cas seemed to attempt to roll his eyes at the continued use of that nickname, but he didn’t mention it. “More than,” Cas attempted to shift but quickly ceased his movements, pain flashing across his face, “However I think I may have strained something in the process.”

“Cas,” Dean began to berate.

Cas kissed him quickly to shut him up, “Just help me,” he motioned with his head to the space beside them.

Dean was careful as he helped Cas roll gently off him, slowly unfolding himself to lay out back against the mattress. Dean ensured that Cas’ head sat cushioned comfortably on the pillows, his arms gingerly resting by his sides as Dean pulled off his soiled pants. Dean removed himself from the bed, crossing his room quickly and digging through a draw till he had two pairs of clean boxer shorts fisted in his grasp. He walked back to Cas’ side, divesting him of any remaining come before slipping the clean garment up his legs and around his waist. Cas remained practically immobile throughout, grinning gratefully even as most of his body was protesting at the further jostling.

Dean cleaned himself after that, stacking there dirty clothes into a pile near the door, and pulling the other pair of clean shorts on. He dragged a blanket over Cas, ensuring the material covered him completely.

“Dean,” Cas’ tone had turned to one of exhaustion, “Come here.”

Dean complied eagerly, flopping himself down by Cas’ side, pulling the blanket so it covered them both. He wrapped his arm gently over Cas’ torso, stroking his side tenderly, as Cas turned to meet his lips for a languid kiss.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have -”

“Yes we should have.” Cas reiterated firmly, “I’m fine Dean.” Dean narrowed his eyes, he felt guilty for causing Cas more pain simply because he couldn’t control himself. “As you said, I shall heal.”

“At twice the rate than normal if we keep any of that up.”

“Good thing the bed is comfortable then.”

Dean huffed a laugh as Cas leaned against him heavily, he tucked his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, pressing his lips lightly to the skin there.

It took barely minutes for Dean to feel Cas’ breath even out against him, the sound of it growing deeper as they both drifted to sleep.

-

Cas woke to an empty bed and a dull pull in his abdomen indicating that he needed to use the bathroom. He traced his hand over the swirl of blankets that Dean had been curled in, feeling the warmth still radiating from the spot and knowing he couldn’t have been alone for long.   
He pulled himself gingerly to his feet, his balance slightly shaky as he wobbled his way towards the door of Dean’s room. As he slowly made his way to the bathroom he was proud of himself when he managed to make it so far without any support.

Dejectedly he stood himself in front of the mirror after he relieved himself. His face still looked pretty battered, the lines marring his skin only showing the first signs of beginning to heal over. He doubted the skin still hidden beneath the wrappings of his bandages would be any better off. However there were now new marks as well, littered across his neck and his uncovered shoulder. He preferred these marks much better – they were Dean’s marks, and there was a stark contrast to those and anything else splattered across his skin.

“Cas?”

Cas perked his head around when he heard Dean’s voice floating down the hall. “In here.”

Dean pushed the door open softly, his face lighting up when his eyes found what they were searching for, “I leave you alone for less than five minutes, and you’re already on your damn feet.”

“I required the use of the bathroom Dean,” Cas smiled as Dean walked up behind him, wrapping his arms carefully around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder, “As frustrating as the requirement is, I still believe there is no way to avoid it.”

Dean hummed in agreement as he pressed his lips to the back of Cas’ neck.

“I am hungry.”

Dean grinned, biting lightly at the skin still beneath his teeth, “What for?” He asked teasingly as he pressed a trail of opened mouthed kisses down the ridge of Cas’ spine.

“Not for that Dean.”

“Not even a little bit?” Dean ran his hands smoothly over Cas’ covered stomach, “Not even the slightest amount?” he trailed his hands further, over the front of Cas’ boxers and lightly down the line of his cock. Dean huffed in triumph when he felt the length twitch beneath his palm.

Cas sighed, “Fine. Yes for that. But food first.”

Dean chuckled, grabbing Cas’ hand in his and leading him out of the bathroom. Cas managed to travel faster with Dean supporting some of his weight, the two of them wandering through the rabbit warren halls of the bunker towards the kitchen.   
Cas positioned himself tentatively into one of the chairs at the table as he watched Dean move around the spacious area, opening drawers and cupboards with ease as he set a pot of water on the stove.

“It is exceedingly difficult to tell the time from within these walls,” Cas stated as he continued to observe Dean make dinner when he had been expecting a breakfast or lunch type meal.

Dean laughed, “It’s just after seven pm Cas. You’ll get used to it. And it’ll probably make a lot more sense when you stop sleeping the days away.”

Cas hummed thoughtfully, glancing up as Dean strode over to him. Dean ran his hands through the strands of Cas’ messy hair, tilting his face up and bending over so he could press their lips together, their tongues playfully prodding at one another.

“Sorry,” Dean breathed against Cas’ lips, “Just really like doing that.”

Cas grinned as he pulled Dean back to him, hands solidly moving up Dean’s firm sides.

“Oh come on guys! Really?” Cas and Dean both pulled away with a slight pop as they turned their gazes to Kevin standing awkwardly in the doorway. “We don’t need public displays of what you’ve been up to for the past few days. Particularly in the damn kitchen – where we eat.”

“Shut up,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and pointedly pushing his lips back to Cas’. “You can assume what you want to assume, kid.”

“Neither of you are wearing clothes. There isn’t much assuming needed,” Kevin walked to the fridge with his hand defensively raised around his eyes to try and avoid too much of Dean and Cas’ merely boxer clad forms.

Dean snorted, “Deal with it.”

Kevin glared pointedly as he pulled a bottle of drink out, he nodded his head towards the stove, “Pasta?” Dean nodded. “Bring me some since you insist on scaring me for life.”

Dean rolled his eyes as Kevin sauntered back out of the room. He checked to make sure the pot wasn’t over boiling before leaning back down to Cas.

Cas cast his eyes cautiously over to the entranceway, “He’s not really – it’s not really a problem is it? Us?”

“What? Of course not. Kevin’s just messin’ round.” Dean took the seat beside Cas.

“And Sam? He won’t -”

Dean laughed lightly, “I _think_ Sammy thought he were fucking a few years back, so I’m relatively sure he’s not going to be fazed.” Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder gently, “You worried what people are gonna think about us?”

“No,” Cas said hastily, “I thought you might have,” he added quietly, glancing away.

“I might have, if this were ten years ago,” Dean said honestly, “But not anymore; not with you.”

Cas smiled softly, leaning into Dean’s touch as he reached for him. They only pulled away when they heard the unmistakable sound of water over spilling onto a naked flame.

-

Dean and Cas were both jerked awake the following morning by the sound of Sam pounding heavily on Dean’s bedroom door stating that he was back and everything went fine.   
Dean’s response was more of a garbled grunt of annoyance than proper acknowledgment but it was enough for Sam. Dean burrowed himself sleepily into Cas’ side, tugging the blankets around them and trying to reclaim the peace his brother had rudely taken.

Cas tried to follow Dean’s lead, forcing his eyes closed as he tucked his arm around Dean’s shoulders, but now that he was awake his mind didn’t seem to want to rest, his body fidgeting.

“Quit squirming, squirmy.”

“You’re articulation is absolutely marvellous of a morning Dean,” Cas grumbled in response, “The bandages,” Cas shifted again, “They’re itching. It is uncomfortable.”

Dean sighed, “Alright. Come on.” He rolled himself enough out of Cas’ grasp so he could reach Cas’ dressings. He fiddled blindly with the fastenings before the material started to fall away.

“Dean?”

“Shh.”

“I fail to see how you’re helping.”

Cas felt Dean’s lips skim across his chest, an evident smirk present, “Let’s call it distraction.”

Dean managed to rid Cas’ upper body entirely of the hindering material while their lips fastened together messily, and with a certain amount of care he ran his fingers smoothly down Cas’ tarnished skin. The subtle motions already had Cas sighing back against the mattress.  
When Dean removed his mouth from Cas’ to follow the path his fingers had lead, Cas’ moan was more than enough of an encouragement.

Dean moved down his body with reverence; his lips and tongue working precisely as he latched onto certain angles of Cas’ body. His collarbones, the juncture of his neck, his hardening nipples.

That was an area Dean was keen to explore. Sucking the nub of Cas’ left nipple into his mouth and biting lightly at the sensitive spot had Cas keening up against him, a hand fisting into his hair harshly and attempting to tug him closer. Dean continued to tease him, flicking his tongue out and around as he tweaked the opposite side with his fingers.

Cas’ body seemed overly response in the haze of his lingering fatigue. His hands clutching mindlessly at any part of Dean he could reach as Dean continued to work his way downwards.   
His focused zeroed in on his hips next, ducking back up to the ridges of his ribs occasionally and slicking a thin layer of saliva along the lines of the enochian words etched into his skin.

Cas had his bottom lip hitched between his teeth, biting at his own skin so to avoid any whimpers of pain to escape. He knew at the first sign of resistance Dean would stop – and he really didn’t want Dean to stop.

Dean had to nudge at Cas to raise his hips, Cas’ mind too preoccupied to be focusing on necessary movements, especially when Dean’s tongue was dipping sinfully under the waistband of his boxers. Dean dragged the material down Cas’ thighs, his breath ghosting in the wake of the covering as he remained close to Cas’ body.

“Dean,” Cas sighed down to him, he could feel a smile back on Dean’s lips as the hunter pressed his mouth to the inset of his waist, and again high on his thigh.

Dean hummed against his skin, his eyes skimming up the length of Cas’ body so they could focus on the blue gaze hungrily staring back at him. The vibration of Dean’s voice sent a shudder through Cas’ limbs, his back beginning to arch off the bed as he sought more and Dean remained stubbornly unmoving.

“Dean, please.”

Dean hummed again, a shine of satisfaction tinting his eyes, “Please what angel?”

Cas didn’t bother responding with words, preferring to instead clutch his hand to the back of Dean’s skull and pointedly move his head forward towards his prominently standing cock. Cas heard Dean’s definitive chuckle before Dean wrapped his lips tightly around the head of his shaft and all his senses went into lockdown.

Dean worked on him like a professional – not that Cas had anything to compare _this_ to, but he was still relatively sure Dean was damn good at it. He moved around Cas’ cock with the perfect mixture of his mouth and tongue, he slicked him up, sucked him down, shallowly at first and then much deeper.

Cas’ fingers were still fused with Dean’s hair and he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to relinquish the grasp even if he desired to. Dean had a hand on his hip, with the necessity to keep him relatively pinned to the bed as his cock nudged its way down the tight confines of Dean’s throat. He felt the muscles contract around him, gripping at him as if they were trying to suck down everything he was capable of giving.

Cas was gone soon after he felt Dean’s other hand come around to massage at his balls, the tightness within them reaching new levels as Dean kneaded invitingly.

The only warning Cas managed to give was a garbled choked off version of Dean’s name before he was spilling down his throat. Dean didn’t draw away, if anything he tried to take him deeper, the substance almost causing him to gag as Cas’ come lined the walls of his throat.

Dean only pulled back when he had determinedly swallowed everything. He licked back up Cas’ spent cock, ensuring to catch any lingering drops of come as he went, lathering almost feverish open mouthed kisses all the way back up Cas’ chest till he could wetly smack their mouths together.

Cas’ own taste exploded across his tongue, Dean avidly pushing past his teeth to try and press further against him. “You alright?” Dean murmured after a few beats of silence between them, Cas’ breath still attempting to regulate back to some semblance of normality.

Cas huffed out a garbled response of confirmation against Dean’s pliant lips.

“Pain?”

“You’re worrying too much Dean.”

“Answer the question Cas.”

“It’s bearable Dean. Now stop distressing yourself.”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, dragging his firm body against the lines of his own. A new bout of pleasure spiked through him when he felt the press of Dean’s still hard cock against his thigh. Cas began to shift, every intention to reciprocate Dean’s actions running through his mind, but Dean’s hands stopped him, long fingers deftly wrapping around his biceps and keeping him pinned to the mattress.

Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly as he hovered over Cas’ now prone form. “I want to -” Cas cast his eyes down pointedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he thought of Dean’s cock slipping between them.

“I have another idea,” Dean stated, eyes glinting. “Just tell me if I -” He fell silent at Cas’ ‘I’m fine’ glare. “Alright. Then I just need you to spread your legs.”

Cas complied with an eagerness that would have made anyone asides from him blush in shame. But with Dean trailing his fingers under him the last thing on his mind was indignity.

Dean progressed his fingers up the cleft of Cas’ ass and Cas felt the immediate pull of sensation, his mind narrowing down to exactly where he wanted Dean’s fingers to reside.   
Dean teased him with his movements, drawing his fingers around Cas’ hole, kneading at his clenching ass, swiping back around towards the base of his already rehardening cock. Cas felt as if his sensitivity was amplifying with every brush of Dean’s skilled fingers, and he was rutting down against Dean’s hand with every intention of having him closer.

Cas felt the pat of Dean’s other hand against his thigh, the palm shifting him so his legs weren’t splayed as wide. After Cas submitted to the placement Dean braced himself and rolled completely above him.

Cas wasn’t sure when Dean had managed to remove his boxers, but as he carefully lowered himself down, the hard line of his cock slipping beside Cas’ own they were definitely no longer covering him. Dean slid himself down further, his leaking shaft rubbing between Cas’ thighs and towards the cleft of Cas’ ass as Cas automatically arched up against him.

“Fuck, _Dean_ ,” The unusual profanity slipped out of Cas as Dean continued to rut down against him, between him, his hands springing forward to Dean’s hips to drag him closer.

“Cas,” Dean responded with reverence, his hand wrapping around Cas’ cock as he continued to slid against him.

It was a mock of actions really – nowhere near the completion of actually penetrating the body beneath him, but it was all they could manage without tearing Cas apart. The wet slide of Dean’s leaking cock between Cas’ slick thighs, the arch of Cas’ back allowing him to nudge up towards his begging hole.

Dean pumped Cas in time with his rutting, his rhythm stuttering along with his breath as Cas clenched his thighs around him instinctively. Cas’ head was thrown back against the pillows, his eyes still firmly open as if he refused to look away from the sight above him. Dean could read nothing but pure pleasure coursing through Cas’ body – and he could only imagine how much that would intensify when he really got to take him apart.

Dean came with a surprised shout, his orgasm tearing out of him before he was prepared for it. It was as the impact of the vision beneath him solidified itself in his mind – Cas, his Cas, beneath him, pliant, wanting, just for him. Always for him.

Cas expelled just after him, his come mixing with Dean’s, covering his hand and their hips, seeping down to the blankets surrounding them. Cas was reaching up for Dean’s mouth before Dean had the chance to. They harshly clutched at each other, Cas dragging Dean down against him as he thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

They didn’t rush to move from being tightly tucked around one another. Savouring their post bliss haze as their minds slowly started to fire enough synapses for normal brain functioning.

Dean moved them when the stick of the sheets became too uncomfortable, but neither of them could be bothered moving far.

“I still want more Dean.” Cas stated firmly when he was finally resting comfortably against Dean’s bare chest. His fingers trailing softly down his sides, enjoying the way the muscles rippled beneath his touch.

“We have time for more, Cas. Believe me, once you’re healed you’ll be claiming an injury just to try and keep me away from you.”

Cas snorted, “Unlikely.” He smiled softly as he felt the press of Dean’s lips in his hair.

Both men jumped at the sudden rattle of Dean’s bedroom door as it swung open on its hinges. Spluttering protests attempting to clamber their way out of Dean’s mouth as his brother stepped into the room, a hand clasped firmly over his eyes as he fumbled forward blindly with the other.

“Alright,” Sam stated loudly, hand still completely shielding his vision, “Kevin told me that the two of you have been hold up ever since I’ve been gone and what you’ve been doing.”

“Kevin told you what – Sam get the fuck out!”

“And I just wanted to express,” Sam pressed on firmly, “That it’s totally cool and we’re supportive, thought you’d been doing this for years and blah blah blah. But we’re not allowing you to corrupt Cas into some sex crazed fiend. And we think that you both need time out of this room.”

“Corrupt Cas!” Dean started indignantly. “Me? He’s the one -”

“Not listening Dean. We’re going to teach Cas how to moderate things as a human, not,” He scrambled for a word, “ _focus_ solely on certain aspects you might find beneficial.”

Dean sat with his mouth hanging open, eyes widely gazing at his brother who still had his sight awkwardly hidden, and wondering if maybe he’d had his head knocked on the hunt.

Cas leaned over to Dean, mimicking the action as if he was about to whisper something up to him but he kept his voice levelly raised, “Should we tell him we’re naked?”

“That’s it!” Sam took hurried steps backwards, bumping into the wall on his way out the door, “I’m out!”

Dean laughed heartily as the door swung shut, twisting his arm around Cas’ waist and hoisting him up against his side so he could meld their mouths together. “My clever angel.”

Cas grinned at the praise even though he knew Dean would probably tease him for the comment later.

They both fell back against the mattress, Cas resuming his position against Dean, curling his limbs around him possessively. “Don’t care what your brother says. We’re having sex often.”

Dean snorted at Cas’ matter of fact tone, but he couldn’t help but agree.

Cas eventually dragged them both out of bed, his empty stomach demanding sustenance. Cas happily dressed in Dean’s clothes that the hunter handed him, managing to maintain their close proximity as they both made themselves more presentable.

Dean had his arms wrapped around Cas’ back, his lips pressed to his cheek as he walked behind Cas out of his (suppose it was ‘theirs’ now) room, ready to continue life inside the bunker – new and improved. 


End file.
